Dharma

Friday, 12 May 2017

Settled faith is anshin. An-shin literally means "the heart-mind at peace". We can speak of different modes or dimensions of faith and anshin is one of them. Thus we can distinguish between anshin, shinjin, bodaishin and abhilasa. The first three terms are Japanese and the last Sanskrit.

Shinjin means the kind of faith that suddenly dawns upon one. It is the experience of awakening or conversion. It may have the form of satori, or, in more traditionally Pureland terms, it is the experience of being "seized by Amida, never to be abandoned." It is the dawning of certainty and confidence. It is the time of turning. The Pureland scriptures say that one has only to turn one's heart toward Amida in order to be filled with grace and assurance. This, therefore, is a kind of ecstasy or catharsis.

Such heightened experiences are indelible, but do not continue on such a high pitch. They mellow and settle. Where, in shinjin, Amida may fill one's consciousness, in anshin, that faith has settled into the background of one's being. One does not think about it all the time, but it resurfaces frequently enough. In fact, every little act of life is somehow touched by it, as though the quality of the light in which one sees things has subtly altered. Life has a glow that was not there before.

When such settled faith is established it particularly manifests in two ways. The first of these is abhilasa, which is willingness. This position is sometimes likened to the good inn-keeper by the roadside. Travellers come along and one caters for them all. Some are rich, some are poor, some are good natured, some are surly, some are excellent guests while others make a mess or create trouble. Nonetheless, the good inn keeper welcomes them all, refreshes and rests them and then sees them on their way. This is a condition of non-possessive goodwill, wishing only that others thrive in their own way and succeed in their journey, along their particular path.

The second is bodaishin or bodhichitta. This is the "way seeking mind". It is also the path of self-abandonment in the service of all sentient beings. It is the mind of the bodhisattva. Here faith takes the form of spiritual altruism. Where abhilasa receives whatever comes, bodhichitta goes forth seeking ways to be of service. This is the path of the spiritual knight errant riding out from Shambhala, seeking the grail and rescuing all those in distress whom he meets along the way. In a sense, abhilasa and bodhichitta are two sides of the same coin.

We can see that settled faith is the enduring foundation. It is the maturing of shinjin into something solid and reliable, an inextinguishable flame. From that light the motivations of bodhichitta and abhilasa arise naturally. If one has the inner peace that comes from a settled faith, then there is no inner obstacle to one's going forth and whatever comes to you will inevitably be experienced simply as another step on the path. This is the epic of Buddhism, the flowing forth of the heart of the tathagata in its quest to save all sentient beings.

This is operationalised in the teachings of Honen in the act of senchaku. When one makes a decisive choice to enter into the refuge offered by the Buddhas and cries out "Namo Amida Bu", this is not a narrowing, but an opening up. All practices, all circumstances, and all conditions are suddenly transformed into the path of enlightenment. Fundamentally this is no different to the path of tantra or the path of zen – it is sudden awakening to the great liberation. This does not depend upon a particular practice. It is not a technical achievement. It is a turning.

When we are uncertain about something we feel anxiety. When the matter is settled that anxiety drops away. This can be happening at many levels. One can be anxious about whether there is sugar for the tea, or one can be anxious about whether the enemy are going to invade. There are many levels and degrees. The most profound level is spiritual. The person who is settled at the spiritual level will still experience all the lesser anxieties, but they will not go so deep, because below them is established the bedrock of anshin. With that basis one is “irreversible”. Spiritual progress is then inevitable. It may take a long time, but one's ocean of greed, hate and delusion has a limit, a bottom. That bottom is Amida.

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Nien means mindfulness. It also means an impulse of mind. The Japanese form is “nen” which becomes “nem-” in terms like nembutsu. Fo means Buddha. Thus Nien Fo is the Chinese equivalent to nembutsu in Japanese. The characters are the same. So nien fo is mindfulness of Buddha or the Buddha impulse in the brain. Every moment of mental connection with Buddha is nien fo. This, therefore, is the most fundamental and irreducible atom of Buddhism, or, we can say, of refuge.

Nien Fo is, therefore, the gateway to all possible dimensions of Buddhist practice and it is enough in itself. All other forms of practice are extensions, elaborations, supports to or derivatives from nien fo. If the practice is not mentally connected with Buddha then it is not Buddhist practice and if one is so connected then the practice, whatever it might be, is an extra flourish, a decoration of the fundamental gateway which is nien fo. So, on the one hand, we can say that all Buddhist practices are simply different ways of operationalising nien fo; and, on the other hand, when nien fo is established, nothing more is actually necessary.

Thus Honen Shonin talked of the importance of senshaku – a selection. When we choose nien fo we establish ourselves in the light of the Buddhas, we open ourselves to them and their Dharma. If we have made such a choice truly and profoundly then everything we do will become Buddhist practice.

Traditionally, the method of establishing Buddha in one's mind in this way was by meditation. However, all “methods” have pitfalls. The pitfall of meditation is the danger of falling into self-power. One may readily start to think of meditation in much the same way as one might think of going to the gym – as a way of enhancing one's own power and ability. Rather than opening one to the power of the Buddhas, one starts to see it as a self-training for purposes of self-enhancement. This does not have to be so, but it is a common mistake.

In a valid sense there is no method for establishing one's connection with Buddha, any more than there can be a method for falling in love. Of course, one can do some things. If one wants to fall in love then it is no good hiding oneself away. If one wants to connect with Buddha one has to make oneself available. If we put ourselves in the places and amongst the people where the influence of Buddha is strong, then we are much more likely to find this refuge.

Then there is great power in the Name. When we say a name, we bring the object to mind. When we do so often, it starts to live within us. When everything we do is associated with that name, then that influence is never far away and begins to saturate our being.

Saying the name can carry a million different emotions. Sometimes one feels great gratitude that one's karmic continuum has somehow become manifest in a world where Buddhas are, have taught and have brought the Dharma into the world, where it is possible to make offerings and even to offer one's life in one way or another. Sometimes one feels hope and longing, begging the Buddhas to remain in the world teaching the Dharma. Sometimes one feels awe and amazement that there are kalyana mitras – spiritual friends – able to reflect that Dharma and help beings along the path. Sometimes one is lost in one's own worries and troubles, yet through the nembutsu one finds a calmer place.

The practice of nien fo can be associated with a visualisation of Amitabha or of the great bodhisattvas or the Pure Land of Sukhavati, yet this is not essential. It may be practised sitting in the lotus position or during mindful walking or in some other yogic procedure – all of these are good, but, again, not essential. The Buddha gave us any number of practices. The practice with nien fo is powerful. The practice without nien fo is an empty shell.

Perhaps the most valuable practice is making offerings. If our offering expresses nien fo, then it is a true offering and the physical act of making the offering, of generosity, of letting go, or expressing love for the Buddhas... these all enhance the nien fo impulse and help to make it real. In some approaches to Buddhism, making offerings is seen as only a preliminary practice, but when we read the great scriptures we read time and again that this or that bodhisattva became a Buddha because of making offerings to myriads of Buddhas. Nien fo is itself the ultimate offering and it makes all offerings deeply meaningful and loving.

ANSWER: Buddha nature is no nature. Different writers use the concept in different ways, so to elucidate it one needs to clarify which Buddha nature concept one is referring to. Thus, for instance, there is a common idea that Buddha nature is somehow the core or essence of the person - a kind of soul. This is an idea that has infected Buddhism from time to time, but is not in accord with the principles of non-self, dependent origination and emptiness that are fundamental to the teachings of Shakyamuni. It is more a Hindu or even humanistic psychology idea. A Buddha does not have a fixed nature. A Buddha simply has an absence of malice. However, it has been a problem in the presentation of Buddhism historically that people search for and cling to "positive" forms of expression of the Dharma and this then leads to the coining of many forms of upaya (skilful means). Thus the idea of Buddha nature does not go back to Shakyamuni, but seems to have been invented in the dialectic between Buddhism and other religions. In the West today it is a popular idea because ideas of soul are deeply embedded in Western culture and although people may think they have rejected the theistic ideas, they reinvent them. The soul then becomes the "self-actualising tendency" and so on, and Buddha nature can then be easily saddled onto the same horse. From time to time great teachers - like Nagarjuna - have to come along and dismantle all these constructions. In the meantime, however, if people find them helpful then they are not entirely bad, simply something that will have to be left behind one day.

The idea that there may be something called Buddha nature "within" oneself, therefore, is non-Buddhist. Nagarjuna would no doubt have said that were there any such entity then either it acts or it does not act. If it acts (i.e. if it is the doer of one's "good" deeds, for instance) then it cannot be eternal and must be subject to change, and if it does not act then it has no relevance to life and existence and so is a meaningless idea. Neither way can it really function as one's "true nature". There is no special agent "within" that is responsible for our good and wise actions any more than there is a devil within responsible for our bad and stupid ones. We can loosely and colloquially say that a person is part angel and part devil and so long as we take such expressions lightly and poetically they make sense, but if we try to reify them into a spiritual anatomy of the person we go astray. Buddhism is opposed to that kind of reification in all its varieties.

All this led to a good deal of controversy in Japan in what is called the "critical Buddhism controversy". There is excellent material all about it in the book Pruning the Bodhi Treee by Hubbard & Swanson. There is also a shorter account in my own book The New Buddhism. It is, for instance, sometimes thought that a belief in Buddha nature will make people into better people and insofar as it is simply an expression for seeing the best in others there is much to say for it. However, it has also been pointed out that the deeper logic of the idea that there is an indestructible core of goodness in people leads to the conclusion that it does not matter how badly you treat them because you will never destroy their core anyway, so it does not matter. This idea is strongly developed in the Bhagavad Gita and it is ideas of this kind that Shakyamuni was preaching against. The Critical Buddhists in Japan argue that this line of thinking lies behind many forms of social discrimination in Japanese sectarian Buddhism. We do not need to pursue every detail - sufficient to observe that ideas can be played both ways.

There can also be a kind of subtle arrogance in the idea of thinking that one "has" Buddha nature. It is much safer spiritually to keep one's focus upon one's avidya, upon one's blindness and short-comings. Perhaps I do have a perfect inner nature - so what? Perhaps I have a nature to make mistakes, to hurt people, to be vulnerable - so there is much to do and a basis for fellow-feeling with others. If a person really does have a buddha-ly nature then that person is probably not particularly - if at all - aware of it. It might be noticed by others, but even if the person is told so by such an observer, the person in question is likely to say, "Oh, no, no, I'm just an ordinary foolish being."

Thus, in Pureland, the emphasis is upon our bombu nature. This is the root of compassion, modesty and gratitude. It is also the foundation of faith. If one were already of the nature of Buddha, what need would one have of the help of the Buddhas - one would already have everything one needs. It is only when and as I acknowledge my bombu nature that I open myself to the possibility of being helped, of receiving a grace that may lift me out of my karmic plight.

Paradoxically, when I make such an act of humble faith, I do immediately participate in a certain way in the freedom and emptiness of the Tathagatas, since doing so involves letting go of all that I previously had clung to as my nature, and that is how Buddhas are - having no fixed nature, just willing to be whatever is needed, gratefully receiving whatever comes along.

Another slight, yet relevant, tangent to this line of thought is the question of awareness. As just pointed out, the buddha-ly person is not aware of being buddha-like. Saints are generally humble people more conscious of their sins than their virtues. The common idea that spiritual awakening is a function of becoming aware of one's Buddha nature is, therefore, well wide of the mark. To have a buddha-ly nature means to be somebody who acts in the manner of a Buddha quite naturally and when we do things quite naturally we are not especially aware of them. A Buddha is not acutely aware - a Buddha is a natural. Thus Dogen, in Genjokoan, says that enlightened people are not necessarily aware of being so. Certainly, Buddha nature is not a kind of awareness.

Monday, 10 April 2017

TEXT: Amida will receive you and you may fear for nothing since all is completely assured

Continuing the commentary upon Summary of Faith and Practice

To be received and accepted as one is is the greatest wonder. To live in fear of rejection, although it inevitably includes a large element of fantasy, can be crippling psychologically. To be in a relationship in which one builds up hopes that “this time all will be well,” only to experience more rejection in the event, can be extremely wounding. Yet, all of these wounds are actually make-believe - just the shadow side of our own investments of hope and longing, our taking refuge in what is incapable of fulfilling such hope. We convince ourselves that we cannot live without the love of this or that person, this or that possession, this or that status in the eyes of the world, but this is not really true. One’s physical lifespan may be ended by a bomb or by starvation or a disease, but one’s love is not ended thereby. There is a “love that transcends understanding” that is a true refuge and is embodied in the Buddhas. That higher love - true love - knows no rejection.

Strangely, it is only the simple mind that knows this. The clever mind has a million complex doubts and calculations, but the simple reality of life is not encompassed by them. This is why the modern attitude often fails to yield real compassion, love, sympathy or peace, for all its sophistication. My teacher produced a book of Zen teachings. Her own teacher wanted the book to be called “Zen is Eternal Life”. My teacher realised that with that title nobody in the West would be interested. When the book first came out the publisher entitled it “Selling Water by the River” - a much more catchy title for the modern audience. For later editions, however, the other title was used - but only the aficionados buy Zen is Eternal Life even though the contents of the book remain the same. The modern person does not want eternal life. Only mundane things are permitted now. Hearts are no longer to be allowed to soar in religious ecstasy.

In the ordinary, mundane world, which is the only world that the modernly educated person is allowed to dwell in, one never actually encounters such complete acceptance. Yet the intuition of it lives in our hearts. Therefore, we look for it. We look for it in our loved ones and this is dangerous because when they turn out to be human we then criticise them for not being so perfect as to satisfy the intuition of unconditional love and acceptance that lives within us, like a memory of another world that we are not allowed to remember.

Pureland, however, is an ecstatic religion. It centres upon the anamnesis of that other world, the world before birth, whence children come “trailing clouds of glory”. And when we meet evidence that hints at that glory, the effect upon us is profound, and this is what the practitioner finds in his or her encounter with Amitabha. Here and there, in life, ordinary circumstance comes close to it - the gratuitous act of generosity, such as the one that triggered the enlightenment of Shakyamuni Buddha. When we encounter something like that it can be as if we fall through an invisible wall that has bounded our life. At such a moment we discover that that wall is illusory, that from the prison we have built for ourselves it is actually possible to walk out through the walls, for they are only stuff of our own imaginary making.

Psychotherapy depends upon this effect. Although the therapist is not a Buddha, she can occupy some approximation to that part for the limited time of a session, accepting the client to a degree that they rarely if ever encounter elsewhere. This has an opening effect upon the soul and energies pour out that otherwise remain trapped in the treacle of fear and doubt. Spiritual guidance is the same. The kalyana mitra transmits the knowledge of this love and is able to do so not through his or her own power, but because the grace of Amitabha flows through them. The disciple may then sense the boundlessness intuitively. Although the kalyana mitra may appear to be an ordinary person, she or he reflects the light of Amitabha simply by not posing. When we have simple faith, it is like taking off our fancy disguise; then, this unconditional love comes to meet us and enshrouds us, hiding our nakedness. Then we know that all is completely assured. That even if we fall into the fire at the end of the kalpa, that transcending love cannot be destroyed.

Wednesday, 29 March 2017

Thich Nhat Hanh explains that sangha is more than a community, it’s a deep spiritual practice.

A sangha is a community of friends practicing the dharma together in order to bring about and to maintain awareness. The essence of a sangha is awareness, understanding, acceptance, harmony and love. When you do not see these in a community, it is not a true sangha, and you should have the courage to say so. But when you find these elements are present in a community, you know that you have the happiness and fortune of being in a real sangha.

In Matthew 5:13 in the New Testament of the Christian Bible, we find this statement: “Ye are the salt of the earth; but if the salt hath lost its savor, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing but to be cast out and to be trodden underfoot of men.” In this passage, Jesus describes his followers as salt. Food needs salt in order to be tasty. Life needs understanding, compassion and harmony in order to be livable. This is the most important contribution to life that the followers of Jesus can bring to the world. It means that the Kingdom of Heaven has to be realized here, not somewhere else, and that Christians need to practice in a way that they are the salt of life and a true community of Christians.

Salt is also an important image in the Buddhist canon, and this Christian teaching is equivalent to the Buddha’s teaching about sangha. The Buddha said that the water in the four oceans has only one taste, the taste of salt, just as his teaching has only one taste, the taste of liberation. Therefore the elements of sangha are the taste of life, the taste of liberation, and we have to practice in order to become the salt. When we say, “I take refuge in the sangha,” it is not a statement, it is a practice.

The trees, water, air, birds, and so on can all be members of our sangha. A beautiful walking path may be part of our sangha. A good cushion can be also.

In the Buddhist scriptures it is said that there are four communities: monks, nuns, laymen and laywomen. But I also include elements that are not human in the sangha. The trees, water, air, birds, and so on can all be members of our sangha. A beautiful walking path may be part of our sangha. A good cushion can be also. We can make many things into supportive elements of our sangha. This idea is not entirely new; it can be found throughout the sutras and in the Abhidharma, too. A pebble, a leaf and a dahlia are mentioned in the Saddharmapundarika Sutra in this respect. It is said in the Pure Land Sutra that if you are mindful, then when the wind blows through the trees, you will hear the teaching of the Four Establishments of Mindfulness, the Eightfold Path, and so on. The whole cosmos is preaching the buddhadharma and practicing the buddhadharma. If you are attentive, you will get in touch with that sangha.

Sangha as our roots

I don’t think the Buddha wanted us to abandon our society, our culture or our roots in order to practice. The practice of Buddhism should help people go back to their families. It should help people re-enter society in order to rediscover and accept the good things that are there in their culture and to rebuild those that are not.

Tuesday, 28 March 2017

COMMENTARYThis phrase occurs a great many times in Buddhist texts. Clearly it means “in all ways”. “Body” refers to behaviour. The body exists in the material world and moves about doing things. It is with the body that we enact the Dharma. “Speech”, here, includes thought: all conceptual activity. When we do things we hold a conception of what we are doing and why. We have a sense of the context that makes our action make sense. “Mind”, here, is, perhaps, a somewhat unfortunate rendering of the Indian word chitta. “Heart”, “soul” or “spirit” might all have been better, but the rendering “body, speech and mind” has become so universal that I think we have to live with it. So, although we say “body, speech and mind”, “spirit, sense and action” might better convey the meaning of the original expression as Buddha spoke it.

Everything we do is done in a certain spirit, makes sense in a particular way and manifests in some form of action. If we wish to understand another person it is not sufficient to observe his or her actions. We need to know what the sense of those actions is and in what spirit they are performed, otherwise we can easily misunderstand.

There is a story about a Buddhist temple in China where deer would come onto the land and the monks, feeling kindly disposed to the deer, would feed them. When the abbot heard about this he came out, forbade the feeding of deer and attacked the animals with his staff. The animals became frightened and ran away. The disciples were perplexed. “Aren’t we supposed to be kind and compassionate? What sort of an example are you - coming out and attacking defenceless animals?” The abbot said, “There are hunters in these mountains. The only defence these animals have is their fear. As long as they run away as soon as they see a human, they have a good chance of survival. If you take that away from them by taming them, they will soon all be caught and killed.”

What looks like compassion is not always the best kind. Action, concept and spirit must harmonise. Intelligence is needed. The “speech” element is an important link between spirit and action. There is always a danger that one take religious precepts in an overly simplistic manner and this then leads to pretense rather than the genuine thing.

The things we do have consequences. We can make this world better or worse; we can act in ways that are constructive or destructive, but many acts are both constructive and destructive at the same time, so this is not a simple matter. At the moment I am laying a path in the garden. To construct the path I have to dig up some of the lawn. One thing is constructed as another is destroyed. I judge that the overall effect will be an improvement, but there is no way to live that is completely free from the destructive side of all creative activity.

Furthermore, this all forms into a feedback loop. As we act we see what we have done and the sense of it transmutes. We are not omniscient, so we never see the whole project all at once. Only as it becomes reality do we see what we have done more fully and as we do so we are learning, changing and growing.

Buddhist training is a cultivation of body, speech and mind - of spirit, sense and action - and it never stops, never ends. It is not a matter of arrival, it is a matter of endless travel. At the beginning of our journey in Buddhism we take refuge, but do we know what refuge means - do we understand the sense of it, the real spirit of it, the enacting of it? Only vaguely. As we go on we are finding out. Amitabha may be at our elbow from the very beginning, but we do not know it. I do not mean “know” just in an intellectual sense - I mean in the sense that a person who walks a path every day knows that path. Yet even the person who walks the same path every day may still notice new things along the way.

“With body, speech and mind” designates the spirit of Buddhism: the self-entrustment to a wholehearted engagement with the practice, open to everything it brings.

According to the story, toward the end of his life, Tao Cho was worried about his own karma. The thing that worried him was that during his time as a great teacher he had caused quite a number of monasteries and Buddhist centres to be built and in the course of building it is almost invariably and unavoidably the case that many small creatures get killed and their habitat destroyed. Tao Cho was worried that all this destruction would have created bad karma for him. After he had talked about this, sharing his concern, his disciple Shan Tao had a dream. In the dream Shan Tao saw that Tao Cho had to make a confession to the community. Shan Tao told Tao Cho about the dream. Tao Cho did as the dream instructed and soon afterwards Tao Cho died peacefully.

Tao Cho was able to receive the saving grace of Amida because he had opened his heart.

It is good to reflect upon the degree of sensitivity here. Where I live I am continually engaged in gardening and in building work. Inevitably worms and insects and occasionally larger creatures get damaged or die as a result of my actions. What about in the building of motorways or cities? The “modern” utilitarian way of thinking is insensitive to all this destruction of life.

We see here the functioning of the master-disciple relationship in an interesting light. In this instance it is the master who receives advice via the dream of the disciple. Here again there is a great sensitivity at work. Because of the deep love between them, this is possible. Here there is no competition in cleverness or achievement, only two humble souls in deep communion.

When such fine sensitivity exists, then there is saving grace. By sensitivity, here, I do not mean pursuing principles to an extreme. What I am trying to find words for is a kind of tenderness in which the glory and tragedy of human existence - the fact that you cannot build even a temple without crushing beetles - yields a poignancy to all our being, both in ourselves and in relation to one another. This is why we take refuge.

Such tenderness existed between Tao Cho and his disciple and it is that spirit that is still being transmitted to us more than a millennia later.

Wednesday, 15 March 2017

The way that Pureland Buddhism is sometimes presented, it starts to sound like monotheism. This is not surprising given that the conventional speech forms of monotheism are known to us all and, however much we might think we have rejected or moved away from traditional religion, our culture is saturated with ideas developed over two millennia in which monotheism dominated. Before that Europe was polytheistic, but that was a long time ago.

The Buddhist concept, however, is of trillions of trillions myriads of worlds, vast numbers of Buddhas, infinite possibilities and diversity, with no one central "lord" or judge, yet, within all of this, certain fundamental truths that persist throughout.

Why then choose one Buddha as a focus of practice? The answer lies in our own limitation. It is much simpler! In any case, to worship one Buddha or one Dharma is to revere them all, so it does not matter. It you prefer to bow to a thouysand different Buddhas each morning, there is nothing wrong with that. There can be no real conflict between a devotee of Amitabha, Manjushri, Akshobhaya,.... Only in the deluded minds of bombu human beings do such spurious conflicts take shape. All such are delusion.

Why "worship" at all? Well, if you can immediately demolish all your ego-centred delusion at a stroke, then, of course, there is no need. But in practice, to diminish the self means to take a humble stance and to realise that there are beings who are more advanced than oneself, more benign than oneself, simply more than oneself, and to bow before them is natural and right. As Bodhidharma, generally slated as the founder of Zen, said, When bowing ceases, Buddhism ceases. Buddhism is a practical pathway for deluded beings and all Buddha's teachings are practical advice.

The true body of the true bodhisattva is infinitely multidimensional and does indeed bow to a myriad Buddhas every time it bows to any one, in a spiritual sense, they all interpenetrate. The dharma world (dharmadhatu) is not the physical world where things occupy individual concrete places. It is, therefore, good practice to expand one's imagination and one's sense of the vastness, spaciousness and plenitude of the limitless Buddhist conception of things.

Tuesday, 14 March 2017

QUESTION: This may seem a bizarre question but one I would like a Buddhist view on. Is suicide a sin,in Christianity to commit suicide is a total sin considered evil and completely against all it teaches but in Japanese culture from the past a way of proving total loyalty to ones sovereign lord the ultimate of duty giri. Has a human being diagnosed with incurable cancer facing death anyway the right to end their life on their terms. Does this send ripples in their karma. I know this is a weird question, but as someone who has had a heart attack and a stroke and has been told I face the onset of early dementia do I have the right to choose when I leave this world.

SHORT ANSWER: Not an absolute matter in Buddhism – it all depends upon motive and intention.

LONGER ANSWER: In Buddhism, one has neither “rights” nor “sins”, only consequences. One certainly has karma and if an act is intentionally committed in a self-serving manner it will create karmic seeds. Generally speaking, Buddhism cherishes all life and is opposed to suicide. There are instances in the sutras where the Buddha says that there was no fault in a particular suicide because the motive had been purely altruistic. This altruism could be that of saving others from being burdened by the care of one’s person when one’s medical condition was completely hopeless, but this does not refer to a situation where it is merely the case that, on the balance of probabilities, one is going to get worse and not recover. When a person does commit suicide, the “correct” Buddhist attitude toward them – except in these very rare completely altruistic cases – is compassion (not disapproval), both for what they did suffer and for the karma they have created. The idea of proving loyalty by katagiri is not Buddhist, it is a samurai custom deriving, I imagine, from Shintoism (if it has religious roots at all). When we say things like “the right to end their life on their terms” – this is an idea and a form of thinking very much grounded in the Western individualistic paradigm and is not really in the Buddhist mode.

We can take responsibility to use whatever life we have in a noble way for the benefit of all. This is true whatever the extent or limitation of our faculties may be. It is, of course, no easy matter, and we often get it wrong, but the principle is clear enough, I think. It is, perhaps, better to think of life as something entrusted to us than as something that we have power over. We do not know what the future holds and we do not know what influence our mode of conducting life will have, but we can be broadly confident that living in a dignified manner is itself supportive to many beings, including those we are unaware of. In general, suicide tends to undermine the faith of others and cause them dismay and fear.

Currently, there is a certain amount of debate about euthanasia, which has gradually become more popular in Europe over recent years. Again, it is the motive and intention that is crucial and the effect upon others. This is a difficult matter because one does not know the extent of that effect. Different people are affected in different ways. One cannot control such things. So, I think we can say that the Buddhist position in such debate should, on the one hand, be that of great caution regarding policy and, on the other, great sympathy for those who do resort to it.

Monday, 13 March 2017

TEXTThus all obstacles become impediments to faith unless we experience contrition and letting go.

Path with a GoalWhen we undertake a spiritual project, we are trying to achieve something. Buddhism is commonly presented as the attempt to achieve enlightenment. One then experiences many things as getting in the way. Many of these things are habitual characteristics of oneself. This can lead to a good deal of personal development as one tries to reform one’s life and to make oneself fit more closely to the ideal.

At the same time, this struggle inevitably gives rise to many doubts. One swings like a pendulum from enthusiasm to dejection and back again. It can also lead to a great deal of deception, both of others and of oneself. This kind of deception is generally not ill-intended, it is simply that one wants so much to fit into the expectation that any sign that one is doing so tends to be taken as confirmation and one then adopts that sign (lakshana) and turns it into a habit so that one artificially creates the appearance of a positive feedback loop. However, spiritual progress is not really about artificially conforming to a prescribed pattern, nor about being preoccupied with appearances. It is about liberation.

Old Habits Come Back to Haunt & Help UsAlso, when the old habit that one thought that one had overcome shows up again, one experiences a disappointment which crystalises into a doubt about one’s practice. One thinks, “I thought I had dealt with that issue and got rid of it - yet, here I go again.” This is a blow to one’s ego - one’s pride. The ego wants to present a tidied up picture of oneself to the world and even to itself.

So when such an “obstacle” recurs there are two options. One is, as just stated, to feel knocked back and lose faith. The other is to accept that this evidence demonstrates one’s bombu nature. We can see that the difference between these two options is the difference between pride and humility. Pride is a kind of “hanging on”. When we hang on to an idea of ourselves, it manifests as pride. This is true even when the idea that we have of ourselves is negative. The negative pride involved in hanging onto the idea of oneself as a victim or a damaged person or no good can be every bit as rigid as that of thinking of oneself as superior. In fact, it is not at all uncommon for both positive and negative forms of pride to go together.

Buddhist IdealsThis whole matter is also related to different conceptions of the spiritual path. On the path of the arhat, the goal is purity. On this path, spiritual pride is the last fetter that one abandons. This is because it is a path of earnestly trying to achieve an ideal. This inevitably involves repression and later that has to be undone - pride is the driving force of repression. On the path of the myokonin the whole thing works the other way around. The spiritual task of renouncing pride through contrition is the foundation rather than the final step. One keeps coming back to it over and over again, which is why we place stress on the bombu paradigm. The bodhisattva path, which is the central theme of the Mahayana, can be entered upon from either perspective.

ComplacencyAlso, here, I need to unpack a little further what is meant by “obstacle”. A spiritual obstacle is, broadly speaking, whatever brings one’s spiritual life to a halt or hiatus. Thus, something that induces complacency is just as much of an obstacle as something like a moral defeat. In fact, more so. The moral defeat might seem like an obstacle, but, in fact, might inject a new dynamic into one’s spiritual life as one wrestles with motives, consequences and conceptions of oneself and the world, whereas complacency may maroon one for a long time without anything useful happening at all.

We should be able to see, at least in principle, therefore, that many of the things that we think of as obstacles are not really so and that the real obstacles often go unnoticed. This, of course, is what the Buddha meant by avidya and this is why we talk about “awakening”. When we open our eyes to our actual spiritual condition, our complacency is shaken.

I'm an Acharya (a senior teacher) with the Order of Amida Buddha, which is a Pureland Buddhist Order. I'm a minister, teach on-line and hold Pureland Buddhist sangha gatherings in Perth, Scotland. I mainly write about Buddhist matters and share the teachings of the Head of our Order, Dharmavidya David Brazier